So Far Away
by Radiorox
Summary: Set during season 9. Harm and Mac are sent to Toronto on another one of Webb's schemes. After getting caught by terrorists, Harm is suffering from amnesia and Mac is left to deal with a man who she doesn't know anymore. Will he ever come back to her? - Mac's POV. (Written in 2004)
1. Chapter 1

This story was written sometime in 2004. I have a habit of placing our fav duo an interesting situations.

I am slowly going through it, trying to make sure 1) formatting is okay and 2) grammar, etc.

I am also trying to prevent myself from wanting to re-write it. ;)

I used to spend a lot of time in Toronto so the city comes up here and there in some of my stories.  
Enjoy!

Summary – Set during season 9. Harm and Mac are sent to Toronto on another one of Webb's schemes. After getting caught by terrorists, Harm is suffering from amnesia and Mac is left to deal with a man who she doesn't know anymore. Will he ever come back to her? - Mac's POV.

**PART 1**

It's funny how another CIA mission has a way of changing our lives. How many have Harm and I gone on now? Too many to mention? You'd figure that, by now, SECNAV would wise up and realize that putting two good officers in harm's way isn't very bright. Then again, I've always thought that the person sitting in the SECNAV's chair was, for lack of a better word, a moron. Though the newer of the two seemed to be doing a better job of things, he had his share of dumbfounded moments.

At one point the inner workings of my mind had conspired a plot that SECNAV would approve the missions in order to quietly get rid of the loose cannon and the security risk. I mean, c'mon! How many CIA appointed disasters do Harm and I have to walk away from before they realize we aren't immortal? Ok, so the last one before this one, we hardly walked away from. Our bi-plane crashed in the wilds of Paraguay. Harm and I were snipping at each other all the time and I managed to break his heart because I couldn't cope with the situation. I would do anything for my country, but I would prefer not go to on a mission blindly and actually have the knowledge that if something goes wrong, we have others to clean up the mess. There is something very unsettling about the CIA and knowing that, if something happened to its operatives, they wouldn't move a muscle to rescue them. Instead, they would be given some damned, nameless star on a wall. That is why I valued the military and its "don't leave men behind" credo.

But, this mission was much different. To start, we were close to home, but freezing our butts off in Toronto, Canada. No South American jungle, no biological weapon at a non-US embassy, no ex-KGB or DOD agents on our ass. Surprising all of us, the whole thing went great. Harm and I were posing as a husband and wife team of arms dealers, sans pregnancy suit. First thing I told Webb was where he could shove the pregnancy suit if he ever so much as mentioned it. Harm was great. I must say, ever since he took on Mattie, he's been wonderful. There's something about responsibility that changes people and shapes them. We never did discuss what happened in Paraguay. I figure that we never will. That is our MO, isn't it? Out of sight, out of mind. Okay, so we did have a few arguments and some banter that was less than friendly. But, for the most part, we did our job without ripping each others heads off and had fun doing so.

We managed to foil the attempts of a terrorist cell called Dark Planet. Harm and I found that the whole plan had gone down too easily. Webb, using his big boy voice, assured us that it was not a set up. I once asked the James Bond wannabe why Harm and I always seemed to be involved in their grand schemes. "Because you guys are the best." Was his answer. Followed by classified information that the CIA had more leaks than a chocolate tea pot. The operatives they could trust were either too wet behind the ears or not fluent enough in Farsi. Funny, the CIA seemed to lack the core meaning of their existence: Intelligence.

However, our lucky streak didn't last. After our debrief, the CIA informed us that we had about four days before our return flight to DC. So, we decided to do the touristy thing. Going up on the CN tower was great. Harm was amused when I walked onto the glass floors so cautiously. I am not afraid of heights, I don't think, but standing on a glass floor and looking down some thousand plus feet, was pretty intense. The view, from the upper observation deck, was incredible. Later that day, we had dinner at Gretsky's and even managed to drop a hundred bux each to grab lower bowl seating at a Maple Leaf's game.

We didn't notice, however, the three men that had followed us that day. It was strange for the two of us to let our guard down. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the mission had gone so well. I know that a grand part of us being so unaware of our surroundings was because we were enjoying each other's company, something that we both confessed to missing. Our feud over lost moments and lost words had come to a full halt and we were best friends again.

Hundreds of ports fans as well as Harm and I, made it out of the ACC (Air Canada Centre) and into Union Station. Walking into what would be the "great hall" of Union, Harm told me about its resemblance to New York's Grand Central. Apparently, several movies that were thought to be made in New York were filmed in Toronto due to film budget. Union served as a mock Grand Central in many of the flicks. As we waited for the subway train to arrive, I moved closer to Harm, hoping to steal some of his warmth and stop me from freezing. I was pleasantly surprised when we wound up kissing. It was so wonderful and we were so caught up in the moment that we'd missed one of the trains and had to catch the other.

From Union, we took the subway, to the Osgoode station. Unfortunately, our stalkers had caught up with us. Shoving me towards the ground, one of the men belted Harm over the head with some sort of metal object. Before I had the chance to react, Harm was shoved into a waiting van and hauled off.

A few hours later I was back at our US embassy in Toronto. Webb had arrived to kindly inform me that they knew this would happen. Someone from the CIA had apparently forgotten to pass that memo on to Harm and me. Clay felt that I was lucky not to be captured as well. Funny, I didn't feel any type of luck in knowing that my partner was nabbed by men that were hell bent on revenge.


	2. Chapter 2

Nearly a week passed before we had any leads as to whether or not Harm was still alive. I was kept practically hidden away in the US Embassy until an anonymous call came in of Harm's whereabouts. The Canadian government put together a contingency of soldiers and, with the permission of the Admiral, I was allowed to tag along. They wouldn't have been able to stop me from going at any costs and the Admiral knew that.

After receiving Intel from the CIA, we headed off not too far away from Toronto. The building where Harm was supposedly kept, looked as if it had not been in habited in years. There was a pungent odor coming from it and vines were covering most of it. The doors were all boarded up except for the one that lead downward.

Walking into the dingy basement, we stumbled across a metal examination table. Traces of fresh blood and what seemed to be seared flesh were evident on the metal. The smell of death was so strong that it nearly choked me. In the corner I saw a device, similar to the one that was used to torture Webb in Paraguay. That is when the choking feel of dread hit me. They couldn't have done this to Harm. God wouldn't be so cruel as to do that to me twice, especially not to Harm. I loved him, God wouldn't take that away from me. Not without telling Harm how in love with him I was. Everyday that I was in Sadik's hell hole I prayed thanks that it wasn't Harm's screams I was hearing. I felt horrible for Webb and would've, at any point, given my life to keep him alive. But still, hearing the man you love being tortured to keep you alive. . . well, it's unsettling.

So far, the place looked empty, as if they were notified that we were coming and literally left minutes before we arrived. I lost hope when I heard the groans coming from another room. Apparently, we weren't going to get out of this one easily.

Major Maxwell of the Canadian Army, severed my thoughts by touching me lightly on the shoulder. Pointing towards the door, I nodded and stood to the right side, preparing myself in case I had to gun down someone. We waited until our assault team was poised and Captain Stromm opened the door. Heading in first, I had to immediately head for cover behind an overturned desk as the bullets went whizzing by me. I heard returning fire and peeked towards the door way only to find the bleeding bodies of both Major Maxwell and Captain Stromm blocking the door way. The rest of our team was still outside and I was the only one trying to stop our offenders.

I waited a few moments and heard the gunfire die down. Apparently, they thought I was dead. Getting up from my hiding place, I took aim and gunned down the two assailants in the room. After sliding the rifles away from the two men, I opened the door for the rest of our team. Luckily and though very wounded, both the Captain and the Major were still alive. Inspecting the area, I frowned when I found no trace of Harm. Someone had lied and this had obviously been a trap. That was until I heard groaning coming from a corner of the room. And there hidden in an awkward looking space between two walls, we found Harm. He was sitting on a chair, semi-conscious, bound and gagged. There was a gash on the side of his head that was caked in dried blood. And his torso was covered in what appeared to be cigarette burns and lashings of some kind. His arms were full of tracks. Apparently, they'd been giving him something, maybe even some sort of truth serum. Looking at the rest of his body, it seemed that nothing was broken. He was shivering and had a high fever. With the help of the team, we manage to get Harm safely out. Surrendering my weapons and equipment to the team, I hopped on a helo that was radioed in vowing to stay with Harm until he recovered.


	3. Chapter 3

This is a really old story that I am re-reading myself. Jeez I liked and like the melodrama. LOL!

PART 3

And there I was, sitting next to my knight in shining armor. Ironic to think of him in that light, since I was the rescuer in this case. No matter, he is what he is. He's been here for two days and not once regained consciousness. One of the doctors led me to believe that, while under examination, Harm had called out for me. One of the nurses that assisted was kind enough to tell me that the information was false and Harm had been out cold the whole time. She said something to the effect of encouraging family and friends to talk to the patient. As if I needed encouraging? Hell, I talk to Harm in my dreams, both the day and night ones. Talking to him now would be no problem at all, really!

Even though Canada has this whole "no gun" policy, I managed to score a 9mm from one of Webb's men. They graciously put two guards at the door, but that still didn't make me feel safe. Men driven by revenge would easily drop the two guards in order to kill their mark. If that was going to happen, I was willing to go out in the blaze of glory I wished for. Anything just to protect him.

At 2:31am local time, I abandoned my watch and went into the head. Jeez, I looked more exhausted than ever. The doctor even threatened to have me removed from the room if I didn't get some proper rest. They'd even graciously let me use the bed next to Harm's. He wouldn't be having a roommate anyway. That didn't mean that I slept. Yea, I laid down on it a few times but didn't really sleep past fifteen minutes. I wanted to be the first person he saw when he woke up. To have him know that I didn't and wouldn't leave his side until he was well again.

Six hours, twenty two minutes and thirty six seconds elapsed before those aqua-marine eyes met mine. "Harm." My voice came out as a choked whisper. But, he wasn't answering me. God, why isn't he answering me?! "Harm." I said again, this time to see the crease of confusion and maybe frustration on his forehead.

Harm sat up and looked around, he apparently had no clue where he was. "Who are you?"

I didn't hear those words clearly, I know I didn't. He didn't just ask who I was. He knows damn well who I am. But his eyes never lie. And they didn't when he finally transfixed them onto mine. "Harm?"

"Who are you?" He asked a bit louder now and darted his hand from under mine.

"M.m.Mac." I couldn't help the stammering though I tried. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie."

The crease on his forehead only deepened and it wasn't long before he started to panic. "Where the hell am I?"

"The hospital. You were hurt." I reached over and tried to claim his hand again, but he backed away and my heart sank to the floor. "Don't you remember anything? Webb's mission. . . we're in Toronto."

Harm shook his head and laid slowly back on the pillow. He brought his hand to his face and rubbed on the stubble that made his features look ruggedly handsome.

I decided to test our good fortune. Things couldn't have gotten worse, could they? "Do you know who you are?"

"Of course I do!" He yelled, then didn't seem too sure of it himself. "I'm . . . Of course I do." Chuckling he sat up in bed. "I'm . . . I'm." His eyes were widening in shock. Maybe I shouldn't have asked?

"You're Harmon Rabb, Jr. . . Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. United States Navy." I also decided to clear up another point. "We call you Harm for short."

"We? Who's we?" Even if Harm had forgotten who he was, who I was, he still had his litigation skills intact.

"Ah, the people at JAG. . . Judge Advocate General, you are a lawyer." Damnit, why this? Why now? At the blank look in his eyes, I saw that my queue to call the doctor. Which was easier said than done, but I was determined to see just what the extent of Harm's memory loss was.

"He has amnesia." Dr. Willis said. Well, no shit! Is that the medical term they use now a days for people who can't remember anything?

"I gathered as much, Doctor." I know the tone of my voice sounded more annoyed than it should of, but there was no need to state the obvious. I wanted to hear numbers, facts, something tangible to whether or not he would snap out of it.

Willis shot me an annoyed look. "We won't know more until we do some testing. . . I had a feeling this would happen."

"And you didn't tell me? Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Standing up, I closed the space between the two of us. Had the situation been a bit calmer I would have laughed when I saw him back up a few spaces. Ok, so I am laughing inside despite the fact that I am a female and he is much taller than I am, he has literally cowered away.

"Ms. MacKenzie, I suggest you calm down." Turning his back to me, the doctor used a light to check on Harm's eyes. Harm was being uncharacteristically quiet during the whole procedure. "You are not his wife, girlfriend or immediate family . . . basically you don't need to know."

Ok, the guy finally pissed me off enough. Who the hell did he think he was? "I am his best friend. He doesn't have a wife or a girlfriend and his family is in California. . . I also have power of attorney to make any decisions on his behalf. That gives ME the right to know."

Harm grinned and for a moment there I thought I had my flyboy back. "Ms. MacKenzie did bust your chops there, Doc." Well, nice of him to be so humorous about it.

Shaking his head, the doctor straightened out. "I'll have someone pick him up within the hour for testing." He walked out of the room without so much as a glance in my direction. Good!

That is when Harm got that deer in the headlight look again. Don't tell me the arrogant sailor was afraid of being alone with a woman? "What was that name that you called me again?"

"Harm." I said softly. I can't imagine what it is like not to remember your own name, which is the first building block of your individuality.

"Harm?" He said raising an eyebrow.

"It's short for Harmon. . . Harmon Rabb Junior." At his confused look I decided to tell him where the name came from. "You were named after your father."

Sitting up a bit more he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror across the room from the bed. "I look more like a David" He said, wide-eyed looking like a kid who'd just been told that Santa Clause doesn't exist. "Are you and I involved? Are you my girlfriend?"


	4. Chapter 4

PART 4

"Harmon!" I heard a voice yell from behind me. This had to have been Harm's mom. She and her husband brushed by me and towards Harm. Stepping slowly out of the room I decided to give them privacy. When he saw that I was leaving, Harm gave me a strange look that resembled fear. It wasn't until about twenty minutes later that I felt someone at my side in the small waiting room.

"I am sorry, dear." A woman said. Looking up I saw that it was Harm's mom. "You're Mac?"

Nodding I stood. "You're Mrs. Burnett. Harm's told me a lot about you."

"It's Trish, dear. . . And he's told me a lot about you as well." I guess I must have paled when she said that, as she felt the need to reassure me. "Only good things, I promise. . . he speaks very fondly of you."

I nodded and looked down, so ashamed that I couldn't keep her son safe. I am a Marine, trained to do battle and I couldn't even stop them from taking Harm. "I'm sorry, ma'am. . . I am sorry he is in this place. . . He can't remember anything." I felt the hot tears slide down my cheeks and was very happy that it was only she and I in the waiting room.

Quickly Trish had me in a tight embrace, reminding me of the times when my mother would do the same to reassure me everything was going to be ok. I couldn't help but think that the instant things were fine, something jumbled it up again. "He is alive, Mac. . . and you brought him back. That's all that matters."

I shook my head and wiped at my tears. "I am surprised you don't hate me."

Trish stiffened as I said that. When it took her a few moments to respond I was sure that it was the truth. "Why would you ever think that?"

"He is hurt because of me. . ." I didn't hear as much as I felt the sob that came out of me. She had to hate me. She did. I was the catalyst that had put him in danger so many times. " . . . The last time he was in the hospital was because of me as well. . ."

Trish sighed. "When he was flying back for your wedding?"

Oh my God. She didn't just ask that did she? I mean, I figured he probably discussed some things with his mother, but that? Oh God, not that. She must think I am some kind of whore. "He. . He told you?"

She smiled at me and just took my hand and squeezed it. "Did you love him? The man you were going to marry."

That seemed to be the million dollar question, one that I had fooled myself into answering when the truth was just the opposite. This time, I figured that I should tell the truth and shame the devil. "No. . .not romantically."

"Did you love my son?" She then asked. My heart crumbled just a bit more. How was I going to tell Harm's mother that I would sell my soul to have him return that love?

I nodded and gave a very low. "Yes." Before she asked I continued. "I love Harm. . . I love him more than I've ever loved. . . but he didn't want me. ." I felt the tears again, they were coming, I couldn't stop them. So I just gave in. ". . . And I went to someone else. . .I hurt him. . . I hurt him again when he came to rescue me during some mission. . . I'm sorry for hurting him. . . I am sorry for being this horrible person." I didn't stop myself from lunging into her open arms. I needed the comfort and consolation that only a parent would give. For a brief moment as I cried in Trish's arms, I envied Harm for having something so wonderful as this. It took a few moments before I was able to compose myself. "I'm sorry."

When I looked up at Trish, she too had tears in her eyes and a sweet smile that I swore only parents gave their children. "Sarah. . . May I call you Sarah?" At my nod she continued. Taking my hand she pulled me over to the sofa where we sat down. "He cares for you. . . a lot more than you know. . . You tried your best."

"It wasn't good enough."

Trish shook her head and held my hand for a moment. "Don't blame yourself, Mac. . ." Taking a sigh I saw her tears freely form and spill. "I am well aware that my son's chosen profession is a risk. . . I pray everyday for him to be safe and that Harm Senior is watching over him. . . be strong, for my son. . . please."

A few minutes later Mr. Burnet, who wished that I called him Frank, joined us. He'd managed to find the cafeteria and had brought a few things for Trish to eat and coffee for me which I eagerly took.

"Colonel MacKenzie." I heard the doctor call from the waiting room. "The Commander would like to see you." Nodding I looked over at Trish who gave me a happy smile urging me to return to him.

Quietly I walked into his room, his head was turned and he was looking out of the window. "Hey Sailor."

"Sarah." He said with a smile that lit up his eyes. God help me.

"Mac." I said in a soft voice, reminding him of my nickname. Then I slid into the chair across from his bed.

Frowning he looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. For a moment I thought he'd remembered everything and any second now our familiar, comforting banter would resume. "What kind of name is Mac for a woman as beautiful as you are?" He said, his expression changing to that of a man trying to woo a woman. Where did that come from? Shaking my head, I managed to crawl out of my crazy mind. Apparently my flyboy still didn't remember.

"Mac is short for MacKenzie, my family name. . . No one calls me Sarah, not even you." I pointed out, recalling the few times he had called me Sarah. It would give me shivers and for some irrational reason, my name sounded so sweet coming from him. I sigh again, loudly this time.

"Are you alright?" He looks concerned. Mac, you have got to stop drifting off here.

The voice that I produce does not sound like my own. It's strained, shaky. "I. . . I'm fine. Harm."

"I don't think you are, but if you say you are fine, I'll take your word for it." He smiles again. It's not the normal flyboy smile I've come to love. For some reason, there are no traces of that in him. "So you didn't answer my question to you earlier. . ."

I shook my head. Apparently, even in his state of amnesia, the man was still as stubborn as ever. "No."

"No you didn't answer or no we weren't?" He asked curiously.

"We're friends Harm, that's what we've always been and what we always will be." I said with a smile which was probably faker than anything. I didn't know where he and I were at the moment. All I knew that the person inside this shell of a man was not MY Harmon Rabb Jr. Days earlier we'd found our footing again as friends. There was that glimmer of something more in his eyes then. Something he was struggling with. The night he was captured I was sure something was going to happen between us. Yes, 'US' as in Harm and Sarah not the Commander and the Colonel. It was written all over that kiss we shared before he was nabbed.

I had wounded him so much in the last year. The Singer fiasco, Paraguay. . . Webb. Funny, I don't feel like an intelligent woman when I think about how I've taken my relationship with him. But during Dinner before the hockey game, I told him about Webb and I. The fact that we were never really moving in the right direction. When he asked why, I answered in true Rabb style. "You know the reason." His smile, that sexy flyboy smile, was all the reassurance that I needed. He knew the reason, and for once I did too. We were in love with each other. Though we had a million hurdles to jump over, we would do it, together.

"Mac?" He said, snapping me out of my thoughts again. "Where'd you go?"

"Sorry." I murmured, standing and walking over to the window. I could feel his intent gaze on me as I'd felt it a hundred times before. When I turned around to look at him, I saw that familiar look.

*Flashback*

"When you look at me that way what do you see?"

"I see a desirable woman."

*End Flashback*

"You really are beautiful, Sarah." He said in something that sounded like a bedroom voice. His eyes were still gazing at me as if I were the only woman in the world. He looked like a predator and me his prey.

I brought my arms across my chest, a sign of weakness and protection, but it was the only way to close myself off to the assault his gaze was giving my body. "I told you, call me Mac. . . and you really gotta stop looking at me that way, Harm."

He fluttered his eyes a few times, apparently taken back by my rejection. But I couldn't do this, not now. I couldn't let my feelings for him hurt his recovery. I ached so much to touch him, hold him to me. . . kiss him. I wished that I were in military uniform. Something about it made me stronger. "I'm sorry." He managed to muster out. "I just. . . have this feeling that we . . ." he stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his hands thoughtfully.

"We weren't." I snapped at him, before walking towards the windows. "And we never will be." I said under my breath, sure of it now. The more we decided to move forward, the more we were pushed farther and farther way from each other. How could a relationship survive such a constant turmoil?

"Colonel?" I turn around and find Dr. Willis walking into the room. "I need to speak to you about making arrangements for Mr. Rabb to return to the US."

I nod and gaze over at Harm who looks like he is about to fall asleep again. Poor guy, I really do feel for him. Sent on a mission he didn't want to go to and now having to pay for it by not remembering a damned thing. I've seen those TV shows that specialize in people with amnesia and can't fathom how horrible it must be to not know who to trust or who you are. "Colonel?" I hear Willis call again. I really gotta stop zoning out. Since when have I been such a space cadet?

"I'll be back as soon as I can." I tell Harm and watch him nod wearily as I make it out of the room and after Dr. Willis. At least we are headed home. There is some comfort in that.


	5. Chapter 5

PART 5

It took no more than a day or two to prepare Harm to be moved to Bethesda. They needed to run several cat scans and make sure he got his antibiotics. The JAG staff had all sorts of get well balloons and flowers all over the suite. The worst was when they visited though. Harriet and Bud came over with the kids. Little AJ tried to get Uncle Harm to remember one of the games that they used to play, but it wasn't any use. The look on Bud's face was horrible. It seemed as if he had lost his mentor. Harm's parents were planning on heading back to California after the doctor told them at least twenty times that there was nothing more they could do. The look in Trish's eyes when she left made me see that she'd given up hope on Harm and I couldn't blame her. So she made me promise that I would take care of him and try to bring him back to her. No pressure on me, though. *Sigh*

The absolute worse person to deal with was Mattie. Harm didn't understand why she was in his life. Though he tried to be polite while we explained, all it did was cause him to become disturbed. When Mattie left with Jen that night, he confessed that he didn't know how to keep her in his life. He didn't feel it was proper. That was added to the list of problems that would arise if he didn't remember anything.

The next morning Harm was sent for more testing. Once he was settled in, I headed over to JAG and made sure I spoke to the Admiral.

"At ease Colonel, take a seat." Once I did, I felt like a bit like a child who was afraid of asking a parent for a favor. "What's on your mind?"

I sighed, hoping that the Admiral was in better mood than he was earlier in the week. To my knowledge, he at least got to blow off some steam when Clayton Webb paid a visit apologizing for the latest fuck up. I half expected Webb to come out of the office with another broken nose. Hah! No such luck. "Sir, as you know the Commander's physical condition is improving. He will be sent home tomorrow." I pause for a moment, hoping that he does one of his miraculous 'I see what you are getting at' moments instead of having me spill it. However, he just takes off his glasses and gives me that DI looking stare. Oh the joy of feeling like a recruit. "He is still battling amnesia, sir. . . I have some days accumulated in the books and, with your permission, I would like to take them so that I may help out the Commander."

I saw him nod, and turn to the side in his chair, seemingly contemplating a counter offer. "We're a bit short staffed here, Colonel." Pinching the bridge of his nose he inhaled sharply. "But. . . put in half days, I'll make sure any court session of yours are in the mornings. If we have a light week, I'll grant you the time off. . . that is about as good as it is going to get for the moment. . ."

"Aye sir. I appreciate anything you can do Admiral." I sit there and wait for any further instructions or my dismissal.

"Mac?" Hearing that he did not use my rank, I only expect to hear something non-work related. "Sometimes people don't snap out of it. . ."

I nod solemly. This is really not something that I want to be hearing. The thoughts of having Pseudo-Harm around is unsettling to say the least. "I know, sir. . . The doctors tell me the same thing."

He nodded and turned again to face me. "How's his mother handling this?"

I sigh, stopping for a moment to think of the day earlier, seeing Trish in tears as the doctors told her that Harm may never snap out of it. "Not too well, her husband decided they go back home. Though she tried to put a brave face . . . I just can't help but. . .think that If I'd done something different. . ." I trail off for a moment, not sure what to say or how to say it.

The Admiral catches on. "It's not your fault, Mac. . .:

"I prefer to put the blame on me, sir. It's easier to handle that way." And it was true. Webb asked and we accepted. We could have turned the offer down, but we didn't.

He stood, came around his desk and slid into the chair next to mine. A gesture that he only did when it was time for a heart to heart with his people. "You are a damn fine Marine, Mac. . . You can't blame yourself for what happened out there. You saved his life and brought him back."

"Is this the time when you tell me to not lose faith, sir?" Tears. I can feel them swelling behind my eyes. I try hard not to blink, praying they won't fall and I won't loose it in front of my CO. As much as this man had become somewhat of a father figure to us, he is still my commanding officer, the very type that I was taught not to show weakness to.

Smiling, he nodded. "Rabb is stubborn and I am sure if anyone can snap him back . . .it's you Mac."

"I'm trying, sir. . . it's just difficult with him. . . him thinking we have a certain history together." I say, trying to maintain my words as chaste as possible.

But, every now and then I think the admiral goes brain dead. Then again, he may be this complete sadist that WANTS us to blurt truths out. "You do have a history together."

"Yes, but . . ." Sighing, I decide to spill it. Eventually, I am gonna have to anyway. ". . . Harm thinks we have an intimate relationship." I move my head down and lower the tone of my voice and finally he gets it as realization creeps into his face.

"You mean, you two haven't ever?" Stopping himself, the Admiral went flush and it would have been hysterical had our current situation not kept my mind so perplexed. "Sorry, Colonel. Most of us thought that you two. . ."

I lower and shake my head recalling the times Harm had pushed away. Followed by the times I pushed him away. Followed by the arguments, significant others, and a deal that now may never come to fruition. "No, sir."

"Well, why the hell not?" He said, resuming his DI-like voice that made me feel I was back at boot camp.

I shrug and let out a long sigh. "Never the right time, sir. . ."

He shook his head. "Let me know how he is doing, Colonel. Bring him back to us, Mac."

I nod, not sure if even selling my soul to Satan can bring my flyboy back. "I'll do my best, sir."

"I know you will. . .I know how much you mean to each other." Standing up he looked down at me. "Well, I do have things to do around here. I'll have to bring in another officer to cover for the Commander. . . dismissed."

"Aye sir." I say, snapping to attention and making an about face as I head out of his office.


	6. Chapter 6

PART 6

When I arrive at the hospital, I see Trish and Frank in the waiting room again talking to Dr. Julie McCabe. She's a nice doctor, either that or I am a bit more calm about the situation. "Mac! I am so glad you're here."

"How's he doing today?" I ask hoping and praying that her excitement was about Harm's recollection. Hell, right now I'd be jumping for joy if he even remembered that stupid "never" comment I made in Paraguay.

"The swelling of his brain is gone completely, and he will be able to go home tomorrow." But there was that catch to his voice. The type that people use when they ask you to chose between hearing the good news or bad news. "But. . ." Here we go. "He still doesn't remember much of anything."

My excitement is cut short. I am happy that he is making a speedy recovery but my heart strings get tugged at knowing that my flyboy is still lost in the abyss of his mind. "Thank you doctor."

"He's been asking about you all day." The doctor said frankly. "Apparently, you made quite an impression on him." She smirked at this, and I knew what she was getting at, the impression that we were an us.

"He's my best friend." I said curtly, hoping she got the hint that I was not Harm's girlfriend. But the fact that we didn't exactly get a chance to move from friends to. . . well. . . something more, would haunt me over and over again if he couldn't remember.

Trish got the implication and I saw her frown, apparently wishing Harm and I had something more. "Mac, please go and see him. . ." She said, pleadingly, taking my hand as she spoke.

I nod. "Headed that way now." When I walked in the room, he was asleep. He looked better than he did when we arrived at Bethesda. The colour was back and he seemed to have gotten some sleep. I slide into the chair next to his bed and watched him for a moment.

He was my sweetest sin. The man that I betrayed my fiancé with although we never breached the line that would make us lovers. If only he knew how many nights I spent fantasizing about him. Or the nights that, in passion I nearly cried his name while in someone else's arms. But he would never know. At least, not now, not this way. I close my eyes and offer a silent prayer to a God that continues to fail me. A God that I pray will not fail Harm. If not for me, please bring him back for his Mother's sake. For our friends. For him.

Twenty two minutes and thirty six seconds later, those aqua-marine eyes meet my own. There is a smile behind those eyes. My hopes are certainly lifted upward again. "Harm?" I question. . . C'mon flyboy, please come back to me.

He blinks a few times and sits up a bit more in the bed. "Sarah." I feel my heart sink to the pit of my stomach. Just by the way he said my name, I knew he still didn't remember a damned thing. "That's some uniform." He says, looking me up and down. "You look cute."

"Cute, huh?" I raise my eyebrow at this. It is the first time anyone has ever referred to my uniform as cute. I wonder if the real Harm thought of it that way? Nah, I doubt it. She's seen too many women in uniform to find it cute. "How you feeling today?"

Harm shrugs and settles comfortably against the pillows behind him. "Great now that you're here." He smiles and eyes me once again. That look of his is seriously doing all sorts of things to me. Breathe, Mac. Breathe! "Doctor McCabe told me that I'm leaving soon."

After a long sigh, I nod. "Yeah, you're being released to my custody. I'll settle you in your apartment and spend some time helping you get re-adjusted."

He frowns. "Re-adjusted. . ." Sighing, he reaches over and grabs some water. After drinking it slowly, he looks away from me and out the window repeating the same thing in a low voice. "Re-adjusted." He seems disgusted with the word and the implication behind it. "Think I'll ever remember?" He asks me, still looking out the window.

What do I tell him? 'Yes, you'll be fine in a few days.' Or 'No, you'll be gone forever.' This is difficult. Damn difficult. He's been my best friend for 8 years and if I thought I didn't know him before, well this was just driving me bonkers. "I don't know, Harm."

He finally turns towards me and offers a half-smile. "I heard them, the neurologist and the doctor. . .They thought I was sleeping. The neurologist doesn't think I'll ever remember." He shakes his head and lets out an exasperated sigh. "Wha. . . what will happen if I don't remember?"

His voice nearly breaks my heart. "We'll go over those hurtles when we get there, sailor. . . Harm." It doesn't help that I also spent most of the day at work, on the Internet, reading about amnesia. One word in particular stood out from a few of the cases I've been reading: 'never.'

Never. That damned word would haunt me til the day I die.

Harm smiles and looks over at me for a moment before proceeding. "We'll go over the hurtles? Not just me alone?" He raises both his eyebrows and reaches out to take my hand. "You really are my best friend, Sarah."

I nod and stroke my thumb against the back of his hand. "I am not letting you go through this alone, Harm." And I mean it, anything to bring him back.


	7. Chapter 7

PART 7

I am glad I never chucked my 'emergency' key to Harm's place. I almost did after he didn't talk to me during his CIA stint. Flyboy doesn't remember what happened to his keys and I didn't see them anywhere in his luggage. The first thing we need to do, other than buy groceries, is change the door locks, just in case. I am extremely paranoid when it comes to things like that. The moment I lose my keys, I get a new lock. You really never know what lunatic has them or if they know where you live. I guess it comes from being a woman that has spent most of her time alone. Self-preservation is a wonderful thing. It's also the death of any of my relationships. I find that most men can't deal with a woman that doesn't want to play damsel in distress.

When we arrive at the building, Harm looks completely lost. He raised both of his eyebrows to the section of DC that he lived in and then shot me some funny look. "I live in there?" At my nod, he continued eyeing the building. "But. . . it's a warehouse." He can't conceal his obvious distaste.

I get out of my Vette and go around to help him out of the car. His knee, which I suspect has been bothering him since he punched out a few years ago, has been hurting forcing him to walk with a limp. "You have a nice place. Worked your six off to get it that way too."

"Six?" He eyes me and for a moment, I thought he was joking. "What's a six?"

Sighing, I go around and take out his suitcase. "It's what pilots call their tail. . . you know? Your butt?"

His mouth does that 'O' thing as he nods. When I first told him that he was a pilot for the Navy he seemed to be scared of the idea. Actually, he told me he was afraid of planes. That response I really wasn't ready for. I led him through the door, up the elevator (that is actually working for once) and ask him to figure out which door was his. The doctor told me that I should test him at times to see if anything jogs his memory. It doesn't work as he actually stood there for about two minutes and couldn't decide whether to go left or right. "I don't know!" He yelled and immediately recovered, lowering his gaze to the ground. "I'm sorry. . . this is just. . . hard."

Out of habit, I touch his arm reassuringly and lead him over to his apartment. "This one is yours." After clicking the lock open, I lead him in and turn on the lights. As he walks in again his mouth does that 'O' thing again. He heads towards the right and up the couple of stairs that lead to his bedroom.

"What the hell are these for?" He asks, running his hands up and down one of the louvered windows.

I shrug and prop myself up on a barstool and just give him space to rummage around. "I think you told me once that it was to separate the loft and give you your own niche." That is exactly the word he used too. 'Niche.' Back then I couldn't help but laugh. How did translucent windows give someone a niche I would never know. Being this nocturnal person that needs complete darkness to sleep, I can see why Harm is always late for work. Probably takes him forever to fall asleep with the amount of light in his room.

Harm walks away from the windows and over to that set of shelves that he calls a closet. I see him run his hands over the summer whites and pick up one of his covers. Putting it on, he walks over to the mirror and stares at himself. "What am I again?"

"Uh . . ." I assume he means rank? "You are a Commander."

"Navy?"

"Yes, Navy."

Even as he speaks under his breath, I can hear him. "Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. Navy." He says and then repeats the same line with a bit more conviction. It's when I see him take off the hat and toss it back up on the shelf that I see him growing more and more frustrated. "How the fuck am I supposed to do this?" He asks, heading out of his room and over to me. "I can't remember a damned thing! And you. . ." Pausing, he props up to a barstool next to me and lets out a long sigh. ". . .you look at me like I am some sort of freak ."

"I don't think you're a freak."

He sighs again, this time turning over to look me in the eyes. "Then what, Mac? What do you think of all of this."

I blink a few times and try to sound positive even though, inside, it's just the opposite. "Temporary. . . Look, you will snap out of it."

He nods and looks down at the floor. "You say it with such conviction."

"Because I know you and you're a fighter." It is the truth. If anything, I can count that Harm was a fighter. I just hope he is still one now. Smiling, I tap his thigh. "Hey, how about we go have something to eat?"

Harm nodded and there goes that new smile of his, watered down. I like that he's smiling, but I want my flyboy smile back. Please? "You gotta get out of that uniform."

I nod. "Okay, we'll pick something up, and go to my place, then I'll bring you back here once we are done eating, deal?"

"Deal." He says and we shake on it.


	8. Chapter 8

PART 8

Dinner was awkward to say the least. He wanted to know just how well we knew each other. Kinda strange to have to tell a person that you've known for eight years about a relationship with the twist and turns that ours had. In retrospect, it was almost like marriage. Was. Sad that I am talking in past tense about a man who is very much alive and still in my life.

Anyway, I left out all of the 'nicer' details. The problems with Diane, our kiss in Norfolk and my engagement party. Somehow, discussing these with a 'stranger' just didn't seem fitting. Also, I was trying to make him realize that I wasn't his girlfriend. I think dealing with that demon would only end up destroying whatever headway he might make.

I am really trying to stay positive, but everything points to him not regaining his memory. This sick part inside of me wants him to stay like that. Maybe I can implement some false information and get what I've always wanted from Harm: a relationship. What stops me is that I wouldn't want him to do the same to me. Also, I want him to love me because he does not because I brainwashed him. I think that makes sense, doesn't it?

We're sitting on the sofa having coffee and he looks up at me, giving me those puppy dog eyes that guys give when they want something. "Can I stay here tonight?" He asks with a pout and a bit more begging with those eyes of his. "I really don't want to be in my apartment alone." Harm adds, his voice dropping down a bit.

How can you resist Harm when he is like that? It is the cutest thing I've ever seen before in my life. Okay, time to get a grip, Marine! "Uh. . . you can. . . you can crash on the sofa, it's a pull out."

Harm smiles brightly. "Thank you." Leaning over he kisses my cheek and I damn myself a million and one times for blushing. He so notices it, because that smile of his has just gone up in wattage. Flyboy smile is almost there.

"You. . . Well you're welcome." I say after clearing my throat and tucking my hair behind my ear.

I stand up and head to my bedroom grabbing a few things to make his bed on the pull out. When I return he already has the cushions on the floor and the bed ready for the sheets and comforter. He settles in and nearly an hour passes when I hear a knock on my door. "Come in." I say and when he does, the sight before me steals my breath. Oh, Harm.

As I drink him in, I see that he is shirtless and clad only in boxer shorts. Okay, just don't look to where you really want to. Don't embarrass yourself that way, Mac! You can do it, look up. . . look up. Okay, so I sunk a peek. Sue me. Clearing my throat, I recollect myself before I am lost in him. "What's up?"

Harm smiles and I am so sure he notices me checking him out. Ever since his brief affair with the CIA, he's literally more aware of things. Even if he doesn't remember, it really has become second nature. Webb had told me, in the various nights that we spent talking about getting into the agency, that once you get implemented with the CIA training, it becomes second nature to handle things tactfully. Hmmm, maybe I should take up a course on that? I can see it now. 'Tactful 101'

"You forgot to give me a pillow." He says, keeping a few feet away from my bed. I see him looking at me as if he was wondering what I was wearing under these sheets. It's only flannel pjs and I can't wait to get up and disappoint him.

"Oh." I say, before tossing the covers off of me and padding to my closet. A look back and I see him rolling his eyes in annoyance. Apparently he didn't like my attire. "Here you go." I go to hand him the pillow, but he is not behind me. Instead, he is sitting on the edge of my bed, looking so sad. Poor guy. "Harm? What's wrong?"

He sighs and his gaze lands on the floor again. He's been doing that a lot lately and it's sad. "I didn't say thank you for helping me did I?"

"You're my best friend, Harm. It's really not a problem." I sit next to him and run my hand over his back offering comfort.

"I think you're lying to me. . ." He says and raises his eyes to look into mine. I don't have to ask him what he means because he answers. "Where we more than friends?" Slowly he let out a cocky grin that makes me weak to my knees. His eyes pierced into my own. I swore he saw straight into my soul

Lost in his eyes, I looked back at the man that I had secretly loved forever.

Eternity. 'They wrote eternity in lights on this bridge.' Apparently, that is how long we were going to have to wait afterall.

"Sarah?"

Why does my name sound so sweet on his lips? Why did I shiver when he repeats it again. "Sarah."

"What?" I said, hoping to find a way not to answer his question.

Chuckling, he settles closer to the edge of my bed and cocks his head to the side, studying me. "I get the feeling that we had something more."

"We...uh, we've never..." Part of me wants to lie and tell him that we had been lovers and he has every right to be in my room clad only in his boxers.

Oh God, how I longed to be lost in him. To be made love to by Harm and fully possessed the way I had never been with any other man. I felt myself blush and hand't noticed that he had gotten so close to me our shoulders were touching. "We care for each other." I finally said, swallowing hard as his fingers threaded through my own. He entwined his fingers in mine, his thumb rubbing against my knuckles. It was a small gesture, but I was crumbling under his touches. "Harm" I stopped talking as I heard how breathy my voice had become. When I looked up to his eyes, I drowned again.

He understood what I hadn't been able to tell him. That we hadn't been lovers, but that I longed to be his - only his. Always his. "We've never touched this way have we, Sarah?" He asks as he brings my hand to his lips and proceeds to kiss each knickle. He keeps his eyes on my own as he rubs his cheek against the back of my hand.

My breatu catches at his touch when I recall the only time we both were consumed by passion. Once, at my engagement party, for that brief moment that felt like forever when his lips claimed mine.

But, I couldn't formulate the words so I just shook my head. That is when he moved in closer to me, just a breath away. I closed my eyes and leaned into the magic that he was weaving through me, eagerly anticipating the duel our mouths were about to commence. I wanted him so bad.

"Then I was a fool, Sarah. . . ." He began with a bedroom voice. "Because these feelings I have for you I must have been hiding inside all along. . ." His finger began to softly trace my facial features. He ended by brushing my lips slightly. "I'm in love with you."

He said it. Finally after years and years of waiting he finally said it. He loves me. No! He is IN LOVE with me. "Say that again." I needed to hear it again to make sure my ears were not deceiving me.

"I'm in love with you, Sarah." Again his lips neared mine but he never made it all the way to kiss me. Opening my eyes, I see him smiling at me. "Does that surprise you to hear that?"

"Harm, please . . . just kiss me." I said, urging him to seal his words. I was not disappointed as his mouth came over mine. Our first kiss was soft, the second was an exploration and the rest were just desperate. Through rough kisses, he slowly pushed me into the bed so that his body lay over mine. His mouth trailed onto my neck, nibbling softly at the sensitive skin and leaving a trail of fire.

"I love you, Sarah." He said between kisses to my throat. "I love you so much." He said again as his lips claimed my own. I was drowning in him. The weight of his body over mind and his kisses were the sweet elixir that I had been praying to taste for eight years. I pulled his head down and fused my lips to his own, tasting Harmon Rabb Jr. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist and bring him ever closer to me.

If his kisses were this divine, making love was going to be the death of me. A very much welcomed death. "Tell me you love me, Sarah. . . Tell me." He urges and that is when I snapped out of it.

I couldn't continue. This wasn't right. Not like this. Not like this.

"Stop!" I said, pushing him gently off of me. But his lips captured mine again. Oh, God this is so divine. No! I have to stop him. Again, I pushed him off. "Stop Harm. . . Stop." I couldn't look him directly in the eye, because I knew that would happen. So I sat up and lay against my headboard. "We can't do this. . . not this way."

"Did I do something wrong?" He said, and I could just imagine that hurt look of rejection.

I shook my head. "No, I did something wrong and I can't be with you this way. . ."

Finally looking at him, I could see that gorgeous smile of his. "It's okay really. . . I want to."

I sighed, God why the hell do you do this to me? Is this my punishment for the way that my life was going? Were you punishing Harm for never letting go before? "Not like this. . . Not when you don't know who you are."

"I am Harmon Rabb Jr. and I am in love with Sarah MacKenzie. . . that is all I need to know." He said with a hand over his heart. The gesture would have been cute, but I was thinking too seriously for it to matter.

I shook my head. "You have to go Harm. . ." God this was too hard. He was here, in my bed, kissing me the way my dreams had showed me. "Good night."

I saw the hurt look in his eyes. He felt rejected. Again I pushed him away. Our biter cycle was never going to end. "Is it me?"

"In a way. . . but it's about both of us. . ." He looked at me, seemingly confused at my actions. "I want you Harm. I have for ages. . but I feel like I'm taking advantage that you don't know who you are." I wished I hadn't said the rest, but it slipped out before my brain stopped it. "The real you doesn't want me."

Instead of leaving my room, he, in true Harm fashion, wipes the tear that had slid down my cheeks.

"Then I never want to remember who I am. . ." I see the sincerity in his eyes, the pain and concern. "Because I don't want to be a man that can't see how much a woman loves him." Sighing, his lips fall upon mine again and we kiss for the last time that night.

A few minutes later, he is gone and I am left alone again damning myself for letting him go and praising myself for not taking advantage. I was truly a lost woman.


	9. Chapter 9

PART 9

It's three thirty in the morning and I swear that I'm going crazy. Did I hear Harm yell? Or was it a dream? "Pull up. . . pull up! No! Sarah!" I run out of the bedroom and find him laying on the pullout shivering. Nightmare. I shake Harm until he is fully out of it and then settle my self on the edge of the bed.

"Harm? It's just a nightmare." I try to maintain my voice as light as possible as his eyes meet mine.

Harm blinks a few times and I see him try to pull some sort of strength together. Some minutes go by before he speaks. "Have. . . Did. . Have I ever crashed?"

I shake my head. It's obviously something that is disturbing him and I don't want him to freak out on me. "No. . ."

"You're lying." He says in disgust.

Okay, so he got me. Great. "You had a ramp strike." I see him about to ask me what that is, so I take it upon myself to explain. "A very long time ago, before we met, you were about to land your plane on a carrier. But, you crashed into the back of it."

He winces at the word 'crashed.' This is so not a good topic to touch up upon. "Did. . . did I kill someone?"

I nod slowly. "Your RIO." God, he looks like a broken man right now. "It was a long time ago and it wasn't your fault, you had a problem with your eyes. . . that was corrected. Don't beat yourself up, Flyboy."

"Stop calling me that!" He yells and then slides away from me. "I know you want him to come back, Sarah. . . but he isn't going to."

"Harm."

"Let's face it. . . who I was is gone. . . and I think I should go too."

"What?"

"I can't live in a place where everyone knows me as someone else. . . Where the woman I love doesn't love me." He looks at me accusingly. If only he knew. "Maybe I have to get out of Washington? Start fresh."

"You can't leave. . . I am not letting you." I try to take his hand but he pulls it away from me. "I'm not giving up on you." I feel the tears slide down my cheeks. I don't want him to go. He can't, not without knowing. Then again, it doesn't matter because I don't want this Harm to know. I want my flyboy to know. I want him back, damnit. I need him back.

"I'm sorry, Sarah." He says, standing up and collecting his belongings before walking out of my apartment. The old him wouldn't have done that. The old him would have wiped away my tears and told me that I was giving the Corps a bad name. I smile at the memory and damn the present. What did we ever do to anyone to deserve this? What? Why us?


	10. Chapter 10

PART 10

"Ma'am." Jen says, as she walks into my office with a nice, big, steaming, hot cup of coffee. Yay! Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee! I would do a cartwheel if I could! "Here, you go." She stands there for a few moments as I sniff the hot liquid before sipping some of it. Sad that I am finding pleasure in a mug of liquid. "Permission to speak freely ma'am." For about thirty seconds I practically ignore that Jen is there. I literally slept about thirty minutes last night and right now, I just want to chug down the coffee and refill the mug.

When I do look up, she has this total look of amusement. "Didn't sleep well." I decided to clarify though I should have hidden behind protocol.

Jen nods. "The commander, ma'am?" She is definitely a spitfire this one. Instead of answering, I just nod at her rhetorical question. "That is what I want to talk to you about, Colonel."

Oh great. What the hell happened now? It's been two days since our little tête-à-tête in my apartment, Harm has been avoiding me. He's been locked up in his apartment and hasn't let anyone in. Or so I hear from Mattie who called to see how I was doing. "Something happened?"

Jen shuffled for a bit and I made a sign for her to close the hatch. "It's Mattie . . .actually." Sitting down, I see her trying to fight with words and really wish she would spill it. "I'm going away for the weekend. . .and." She stops for a bit a lets out an exasperated sigh. "I don't want to leave her with. . . him. . . And frankly, Mattie doesn't want to say with him."

Okay, that has made me put my mug of pleasure down. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened ma'am. . .he's just not . . . well not Harm." I see her shake her head and take a deep breath. "We tried to go over last night and he was just. . . suspicious of us and why we were there."

"Jen, go on your date. I'll take care of Mattie, she can crash on the pull out." I say with a smile and see Coates visibly relax. It's sad that she is taking on this whole Mattie situation by herself.

"Thank you ma'am." She says before getting his questioning look. "What will happen to her?" Jen asks. In all honesty, I hadn't really thought about it. Her hearing will be coming up in a few months and if Harm doesn't remember who he is, I see Mattie being sent to foster care. I'd come to really love having Mattie around and I really don't want her ending up like that. Definitely something to add to my to-do list.

"I don't know, Jennifer." I confess before giving her a reassuring smile. "But, I will do everything in my power to keep her around."

Jen stands, more confident than she was when she came in her. "Thank you."

"Dismissed." I say and watch as she heads out of my office. So she has a date? I wonder with who? Two minutes later, I hear Coates' voice over my intercom. "Colonel, the Admiral will like to see you ASAP."

"Thank you Petty Officer." I say, before I raise my self off the chair. I stare lovingly at my mug of coffee and debate taking it with me. Instead, I settle for chugging some of it and curse when it burns my throat.

Putting myself together, I head towards the Admiral's office where a sympathetic Coates is looking up at me. "I'll have some more coffee for you, Ma'am." She says and I can't help but smile. For that alone I would advance her commission.

"Come on in, Mac." The Admiral says as he sees me outside of his door. Mac? He called me Mac didn't he? Oh shit. This means he is going to get personal with me. I really don't want to do this. I just want to go back to my coffee. Actually, I just want to go back to my house, curl up in my bed or a nice hot shower and pretend that everything is normal. "Close the hatch and have a seat." Once I do both, he just looks at me for a moment. He has this complete look of guilt along with sympathy. I really don't know why he feels guilty, he gave both of us the option to back out of the fiasco. "How are things?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" I ask, knowing full well that the moment he goes around calling me Mac, the conversation could be about crocheting and he wouldn't care. At his nod, I take a deep breath and fake a smile. "Things suck at the moment." No need to chose words, just giving him intel on what I believe is already written on my face.

"I take Harm hasn't remembered anything?" Here he goes again, stating the obvious. Sometimes, the Admiral's demeanor makes me wanna snap.

I nod slowly and fight the urge to roll my eyes. "He isn't talking to me either. . . or Jen or Mattie for that matter."

"Hmmm." He says, before tilting his chair backwards. "So I guess things are final."

"Sir?"

Sighing, he turns the chair so that he is facing me again. "I can't keep Commander Rabb's position open in this office if he doesn't remember a damned thing." Ah, so that is what the guilt is about. The powers that be have forced him to get rid of the dead weight. I am sure that SECNAV has something to do with this. It's usually the case. "My hands are tied on that matter." He says solemnly. Moments like these, I am sure that the Admiral wishes he were still in the SEALs. I can imagine he would really love to kick some people's butts at the moment. Some people starting with the SECNAV and ending with Clayton Webb. "Do you think he'll remember anything? Anything at all?"

"I don't know." I say, my voice just above a whisper as I try to hold back the sobs that I had been forcing down since I found myself alone last night. "I want him to come back, Sir. . . I do. . . but, realistically, it doesn't look good."

"Mac, don't stop fighting. . . I know that may sound pointless and stupid, but I believe that if anyone can get our old Harm back, it's you." Well, no pressure on me there, huh? How the hell was I going to make someone remember? He isn't lost in the middle of the ocean where I found him once. He is lost in his mind, a place that few, even Harm himself, had ventured. "You love him, don't you?" The Admiral said, and for a few seconds I thought I was dreaming. "Don't you?"

I take a shaky breath and, under the weight of his scrutiny, bare the truth that only one poor soul in JAG ops knows. "I'm in love with him." I swear I see the Admiral smirk.

"I am going to try and keep the SECNAV off of our sixes for as long as I can." He comments before standing up and looking out the window. "That is how long I am giving Harm. . . if he hasn't snapped out of it by then. . ."

I know what he is getting at. Harm's commission would be terminated indefinitely. "I know, sir. . ."

"Keep your chin up, Mac. . . he is a stubborn man." He adds before dismissing me. As I walk out of his office and into my own, I can't help but wonder what had bitten the Admiral? Didn't he tell me some days ago that some people never come back?


	11. Chapter 11

PART 11

Thank God I pay attention when people talk to me, else I wouldn't have remembered what school Mattie went to. The ride home was interesting. Mattie, I could tell, was still not over the whole 'Harm can't remember a thing' issue and I can't blame her. None of us are over it. How could we be?

We were sitting together in the living room, sharing a large meat lover's pizza. Mattie chuckles that Harm hadn't been able to convert her eating habits. Amen for that!

"I haven't said 'Thank you' enough, Mac." Mattie tells me after we were done watching Freaky Friday for the second time. I gotta admit, it was a cool movie and now I have the music in my head.

I tousle her hair and am glad I don't get that 'oh! Don't touch my hair.' yelp that some teens can dish out. Instead, Mattie awards me with a smile. "My pleasure, kiddo."

"You miss him don't you?" That was a question I was waiting for since she walked in. We both missed him but, I was sure I missed him much more than Mattie ever could.

I nod, take a deep breath and then look towards Mattie. "Miss him more than you know."

"Must be weird. . .I mean you've known him for so long . . . I can't image what you are going through."

"Same as you are, Mattie. . . I want him to remember. Hell, right now, if he was pissed off at me and remembered I would be doing cart wheels." I think, I've confessed that to my self a few times already.

Mattie chuckles, no doubt it was my cart wheel comment. I am sure she is picturing me in my uniform cart wheeling around JAG. Well, ok, I am picturing it and it makes me chuckle as well. It's the next question that totally blows me away. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"Am I THAT transparent?" I hear myself say before I could stop myself. I really gotta stop doing that, I am getting worse than Harm was. Talk about blabbing!

"Yes." Mattie says simply and smiles up at me as if she'd just discovered the meaning of life. "He is in love with you too, you know."

I sigh. Sad part is that the current Harm is in love with me, or so he thinks. The old Harm. . . well I don't know. I can only hope and pray. What sucks is that my hopes and prayers have always fallen on deaf ears when it comes to Harm. I know it is horrible that I want the whole package. I want to hear the words and see the action. But, it's not THAT unreasonable for people that know Harm as well as I do. What he did in Paraguay for me was incredible, but it doesn't mean he wouldn't have done the same for Mattie, Bud, Harriet, Sturgis and even the Admiral. It's what made up the man I was in love with.

Yes, was. . . I am not in love with the current Harm though a voice inside of me tells me to run to him and that things will be alright. But, I've lost all faith that I had and I feel horrible about it. "I am not sure, Mattie." I finally answer her after two minutes of thought. "The current Harm does, but the old Harm. . ."

"Does as well." She says with confidence and I wonder how it is that kids do that? They find the things that we adults can't see. It's the tone in her voice and the smile that she offers that makes me believe it. Still, I want to hear it from him. . . I need to.

Mattie yawns and a quick check at my internal clock tells me it's nearly midnight. Definitely bedtime. "Bedtime." Luckily, I don't get an argument. Mattie simply nods and proceeds to help me set up the pull out. "Night Mattie." I tell her before giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, Mac?" I hear her call as I head off into my bedroom. "Love you." She says when I turn around.

"I love you, too." I tell her and swallow down the knot at my throat. "Night." I head into my room and close the door behind me. I can't believe how much it means to me that Mattie has accepted me into her life. Now, if only we can get the last piece of the puzzle back. If only we'd confess our feelings for each other. We'd have that family that Harm and I both want. . . If only. . .


	12. Chapter 12

PART 12

"Sarah. . . save me please." I hear Harm call to me, but I can't see him. It's too dark, way too dark. Where the hell am I? How the hell did I get here? I am running towards the sound of the voice. But, I can't see a thing.

"Harm?" I call out to him and my voice echoes all around, resonating in my ears. "Harm, where are you?" I call out and decide to run in another direction when I don't hear him anymore. "Please! Answer me! Harm?!" My voice is louder and I decide to run back the way I came and that is where I found him, still tied to the chair, his body bruised and bloodied. "Harm." I say softly and rush to his side. When I take his pulse, it isn't there. He is dead, gone forever.

A few seconds later, I am sitting straight up in bed drenched in sweat. It's just another nightmare. I've had a billion ever since this fiasco started. All having to do with Harm. But, this was, by far the strangest and most real. I am getting that sick feeling that something is wrong with him. I know I need to go to him, so, I dress and leave a note for Mattie. Just in case, I leave my cell phone number as well.

When I arrive at his apartment, I see both of his cars outside of the building and Harm walking outside with a big box. "Harm!" I yell and make my way over to him. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" He asks, his voice icy. Apparently he was taking his leaving seriously. "You don't love me. I don't remember a damned thing, so maybe I should start over." He says before stuffing the box in the rear of his Lexus. "I can't start over here. It's like I am a ghost of who I used to be. . . and it won't help." He starts to head back to the door and I get in his way. "I found a small place in Pennsylvania. . . cleared out the bank account."

"What can I do to change your mind?" I ask, extending my arms wide to not let him go past either side of me.

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Nothing. . . your actions were enough."

"I don't want you to go, Harm." Didn't he tell me the exact same thing nearly a year ago? I hope his actions do not mirror mine.

The sudden 'click' of a pistol takes me away from the conversation. Harm just looks down at me, confused as I look around but see no one. Annoyed, he took that moment to move around me and head back into the building. I swear I heard that noise, it's too distinct for it to be anything else. I turn around again and see nothing.

"Sarah, just go home." Harm says, emerging from the building with yet another box. It's then that I feel an arm go around me, hooking my neck. A rush of air escapes my lungs and my captor barely lets me breathe. The cool metal of a gun is pressed up against my head. Harm stares at me, his eyes wide with shock. He's dropped the box that he was carrying and pulled out a pistol from his back. "Let her go!" He yells at my assailant. The hand holding the weapon trembling.

"Drop it, Commander." The guy says, shoving the gun harder to the side of my head. "Drop it, or I'll kill your wife." Wife? I assume this must be one of the men we were after in Toronto.

Harm just shakes his head and maintains the gun trained on the guy. I am really hoping he doesn't take a shot. I am 100% certain that THIS Harm doesn't know how to use that thing. And why was he carrying a weapon in the first place? There is a noise behind us, I know my captor hears it too as he does the slightest of movements. That movement is enough for me to get out of his grasp.

I fall to the floor and look up to the man pointing the gun at me. It's Michael, one of the CIA agents that knew about our little husband and wife charade. Harm and I had agreed that if anyone would rat us out, it would be him. He had been taking his undercover work a bit too seriously for our taste and now we know why. "Michael, what do you want from us?"

"The money! I know Webb made you and the Commander hide it. . .I want it NOW!" He yelled at me, while keeping the gun trained on me. Money? Did he really think that we would have kept it?

"Why would we have it? That money was given back to the government once the mission was over."

"Lying bitch!" He yells and I am sure that any moment now will be my last. He blasts a shot about an inch away from my leg before I hear that sickening click of his gun again. "Now, I am only going to ask you once more. . . where is the money?!"

"Shoot him, Harm!" I yell, noticing that Michael had completely lost interest in him.

We both look over at Harm who's hand is shaking more than ever. "Sarah. . .I can't." He says, which gives Michael a reason to make good on his promise.

"Goodbye, Colonel." He says and just as I know my life is over, I hear another shot come from behind Michael. Then, I see his body fall in a heap to the floor. Just as he hit the pavement, a shot went off from his gun.

Visually I followed the bullet's path and saw Harm slump to the floor. Blood had started oozing from where his head lay. "Harm!" I yell, rushing to his side. Looking over, I see the Admiral running over to join me. So he was the one that shot Michael. "Sir, he's been shot in the head, we need to get him out of here."

Nodding, he grabs for his cell phone and starts calling 911 and relaying the information about our location. "I called your home but you weren't there." The Admiral says taking off his jacket and wrapping it around Harm's head. "Webb tried contacting the two of you about Michael. . . When he couldn't he called me and I headed on over when you didn't answer."

"Harm, hold on please. . . please." I move Harm's body onto my own and hold my flyboy. He is going to make it, he has too. Fate isn't this cruel. It can't be possible. I swear, I don't want him to leave my world. Please, I'll take him anyway he comes, memory or not. Please!!!


	13. Chapter 13

PART 13

Critical condition is a word that is common on TV shows about medicine. The term has a new meaning after Bud's accident and is deeply starting to disturb me as I sit in the waiting room with the Admiral.

There is blood on my hands, Harm's blood from when I was holding him. I haven't bothered to wash it off and I don't know why. So I sit here and look down at my hands. "We've been spending way too much time in hospitals." I say to the Admiral. It was something stupid, but I needed to cut that silence. The Admiral had been staring at me since I'd been looking at my hands.

Instead of answering he just nods and brings an arm across my shoulders. I want to push him away, but, I need the comfort. "I am sorry all this has happened, Mac."

"Wasn't your fault, sir." Funny how blood turns pinkish when you have it on your skin. It was so crimson when I was holding him. Now it's just pink.

The Admiral stands, takes out a handkerchief and douses it with some water from the water fountain. He returns over to me and starts to wipe my hands. I should complain, but I don't. The last time my hands were THIS bloody was when I killed that poacher in the mountains. But I am not freaking out! This time I am just looking at my hands which the Admiral has just cleaned. I feel his hand come under my chin and raise my head up. "Mac? Talk to me."

I shake my head and look down at my hands again. "Nothing to say, sir."

"Do you feel guilty?" He asks and then slides back next to me. Do I? Well, gee, maybe? He wouldn't have been in danger if he would have stayed with me. If I had been there sooner. Now he is dying and I can't even tell him what I feel for him. How my life has no meaning without him. How I cried myself to sleep every night since we arrived from Paraguay because he wasn't mine. How I hated myself for hurting him how I did. I see the doctor head into the waiting area and he is frowning. Instead of coming to us, he heads back in again. "Mac?"

"How the hell do you expect me to feel, sir?" I yell at the Admiral who jumped at my words. We're not in uniform, not in the office, so screw protocol. "He's in some sort of limbo because I couldn't protect him. . . and now. . . I . . ." Tears start sliding down my cheeks that I don't want to stop. I need to let go for once, to give into the fact that I am human like everyone else is. "I love him, sir. . . I love him so much and he'll never know. . he'll never know."

Sometimes fate has a sick way of giving you the things I asked for. When I told Harm once that I wanted the dance to be over, I should have been more specific. If he dies tonight the dance will indeed be over, and he'll be gone from my life forever. When I told him 'Never' in Paraguay, I was hoping to end some of my pain from the most horrible experience in my life. Instead, I opened up my wounds just a little bit more and, for good measure, poured salt into them.

I wanted to talk to Harm, to tell him I was wrong, but then he left to the CIA and I was angry at him for it. Angry that he had run off to the same people that put me in danger. I grew even more angry when he didn't return my calls. Effectively, we were still playing the game, only that it now had more players who were bound to get hurt along with Harm and I. I wanted to end the game and now fate is doing it in the only way it knows how, by taking him away from me.

"Colonel?" I look up and didn't even notice that the Admiral was talking with the doctor. "Colonel. . . I'm sorry. . ."

Sorry? What? "S. . .sorry?"

"We're trying everything that we can, but . . . we don't think he'll..."

I don't hear his voice any longer, chosing to let it slip away as what was left of my heart shatters. Anguish, deep and painful befalls me and I know, for certain, I will nevee love again. "No… Doc, no." My legs buckle and I'm caught by the Admiral before I hit the floor.

"Doctor." A nurse, walking out of some double doors cuts him off. "Hurry! He has a pulse."

The doctor looks at me and then at the Admiral before running through the doors back to Harm. That's it Flyboy, hold on. . . please hold on.


	14. Chapter 14

PART 14

It's been three days since Harm's surgery and he has not regained consciousness. The surgery was a success, they managed to find the bullet that, miraculously did not do Harm any damage. He did lose a lot of blood, but the doctors managed to give him some transfusions and he was healing well. The only problem was that he hadn't woken up. It's difficult to walk in and see his head bandaged and that beeping sound of whatever the hell he is connected to. For someone who the doctors tell me is doing to be alright, he sure has a hell of a lot of tubes connected to him.

I walk over and sit in the chair next to his bed. I literally haven't left the hospital since he was brought in. The Admiral gave me the time off. He knew, as well as I did, that I was of no use to him at the office.

I reach out and grab Harm's hand as I've done every time I've visited him. Harm's mom came back again from California and has been sitting outside in the waiting room with me. Always, when the doctor is done with his check up, Trish allows me to walk in first and then, a few minutes later, she relieves me. We've been talking to him, though I never sit around to hear what she tells him. Somehow, I feel like I am eavesdropping. So, instead, I sit out in the waiting room with whoever is there.

"Hey sailor, how are you today? . . . Still not talking, huh?" Smiling, I rub my thumb against the back of his hand. He is looking better and has gotten his color back. "Soon you'll be awake and telling me to shut up. . . I am sure I am driving you crazy. . ."

"Mac. . ." He says in a low, raspy voice, his eyes only open slightly. "Mac." He repeats and his eyes open a bit more and I see him focus on me.

"Take it easy, Harm." I bring my hand to the side of his face, careful not to touch the bandage on his head. He's alive. . . he's awake and I can't stop the tears from flowing. I don't care if he doesn't remember me. The alternative: not having him in my life at all, is just not something I want to think about.

"Are we . . .still in Toronto?" He rasps.

Did he. . .? Oh God. Please don't let this be a dream. Please tell me he came back. . . PLEASE! "What do you remember, Harm?"

He goes to sit up, but it is apparent that it is a bit too physically painful for him to do so. Instead, he settles for holding my hand against his chest. "Remember. . . you. . me kissing. . . a white van, men got out. ." His breathing is becoming more labored but then it evens out. "They. . . tied me to something cold. . . shocked me. . .all I could think about. . . was Paraguay, you. . . how lucky I felt that you . . . weren't in my place."

Torture, God. Not Harm, never Harm. For the rest of my life I know that I will hear Webb's screams of pain in my head. Now I will be haunted by the thoughts that Harm had endured the same thing. What kind of a cruel world did we live in? Laying my head on his chest, I sobbed harder, not able to contain any more emotion. "It's okay." I hear Harm say before putting his hand over my head and playing with my hair. "Gonna be fine."

"No. . ." Looking up, I see his eyes widen just a bit. "Do. . . what else do you remember?"

Harm clears his throat and smiles. Guess what? It's the flyboy smile. "The doctor told . . .me I had amnesia . . . for a while. Is that why . . .you are so worried?"

I nod and that smile just widens up a bit more. "Yes. . . You didn't remember anything."

Harm's smile starts going away and his eyes start closing. I know he is tired, he has to be. When I am sure he had fallen asleep, I see his eyes open again. "Proof. . . We made a promise during . . . little AJ's birth. . . How he would look like you. . . and have my brains."

I laugh at that and bring his hand to my lips. "Shhh. . . get some rest, Harm. I'll be right here when you wake up." He's back. . . my flyboy is back. I want to tell him that I love him, that I had since the day we met. I want to tell him that he is the only man I would consider to be the father of my children. I want to ask him to marry me and spent the rest of our lives together. I want to kiss him. But, I don't. Instead, I sit by and let him fall into a drug induced sleep. I don't have the courage right now to talk to him about this. Things are just too real and too scary. Yes, I am a coward and I know that I am. But, part of me doesn't want to overwhelm him either. Part of me knows that he would likely bolt and I can't go through the rejection I felt in Sydney. I wanted him to come back to me, didn't I? Now. . . I kinda wished he would forget some aspects of our relationship. The devil had a firm grasp at my heart.

Harm was finally let out of the hospital without any problems. Not that I am surprised, the man has more lives than a cat. Things between us was at a complete standstill. And, this time, it wasn't my fault. He went off to do his quals and ended up staying a few weeks longer and I was left here to help Jen out with Mattie. I had e-mailed him several times and he only responded to two. So much for starting over again.

"Hey there." He says, standing under my door frame. It's been two days since he's returned and we haven't even run into each other. Investigating things outside of Ops tends to do that to you. "The Admiral took Turner off the case so I'll be prosecuting."

I smile, I know he likes going head to head with me, it's always a challenge. "I bet you are thrilled."

"So, ten years in Leavenworth, and he is out of the corps. Take it or leave it." He says, walking into my office and sliding into the chair across from my desk.

I raise my eyebrows and smirk. He didn't waste time did he. "Three years confinement, forfeiture of pay and he stays in the Corps."

"Dreaming, Colonel."

I sigh, "Okay. Five years hard labor, and he stays in the corps." I point my pen towards him and grin. "And that is my final offer."

"Well, then we are going to court." He says all cool, calm and collected.

Before he has a chance to leave, I decide to figure out a few things. Masochist that I am. "Is it that you like arguing with me?"

"I'm sorry?" He says, turning around and looking directly at me. "I am not sure what you mean."

Figures and to coin a phrase. 'In what language, what man understands a woman.' I was insulted by that comment, now I know it's true and it isn't women's fault either! "Do you like arguing with me. . . it's a yes or no question." He gives me that 'what the hell'? look so I decide to clarify. "We are fine, and the moment we are fine, you start picking fights. . . And I know what I am talking about because I do the same thing. Hell, I am probably doing the same thing now."

"Mac, this has nothing to do with us. . ." He says bringing his arms across his chest. Oh, so he is going on the defensive, fun.

Taking a breath, I hold it for a moment. "It is about us. . . It's always about us. . . what are you afraid of?"

"The fact that you run hot and then cold. . ."

Okay, so that is definitely not what I was expecting. True, I didn't know what he would respond, but that is. . .well? "What?"

"One moment you are telling me there will NEVER be an US. . . a few months later, after a failed relationship with spook boy, you are on me like a dog in heat. . . Hot and then cold. . ." A dog in heat? Is that what he thought of me? When we shared that kiss in Canada, it was mutual. It was. . .

"Something was going to happen between us in Toronto. Why are you backing away now?" I stand up and step close to him, ignoring the fact that everyone in the office was poised on our every word.

"Because, to coin a phrase. 'It will never work out between us.'" He spat back at me and glared me down.

I shook my head. If there were ever any words that I wanted to take back, we could definitely start out with those. "I didn't mean them."

"Then why say them, Colonel? Huh?" For a moment I stand there, trying to formulate words but the look in his eyes deters me from it. They are staring intensely into my own, breaking me apart piece by piece. Harm steps a bit closer to me and it's then that I realize his full height and the amount of power that he can posses. If only, all the energy would be put into something else, like making us work out. Instead, he is harnessing it to use my own words against me. "I risked my life, my career, everything FOR YOU. . . FOR YOU. Not for Webb or Gunny. For YOU. Because I was selfish and I needed YOU. Because I thought that doing that would make you realize what you've been doubting since you called me the night that Mic left. . . You know the reasons, all of them and they begin and end with YOU." He turns around and faces out my window.

"Harm. . ." I stand there, still stunned at his comments. His words wracking my brain. Defensively I move my arms across my chest to protect myself. I am tired of the fights, I just want this to be over.

Turning back towards me, he again moves a few steps closer. "Why. . . WHY did you say it? Damnit!"

His eyes, the way that they are looking at me just makes me angry. "Because I was afraid!" I yell back at him. "You weren't yourself, I wasn't myself. . . I was afraid that all of the negative things that happened in Paraguay would crawl into an intimate relationship." Uncrossing my arms, I move even closer to him and jab him on the chest a few times. "YOU keep thinking about my exes, how they are dead or wish they were. . .You keep making that comment. Are you afraid to be the next, huh?"

He starts to say something but I immediately cut him off. I manage, for now, to keep the tears at bay. They want to come out, but I am not going to let them. "I love you. . . I love you so much it hurts that we aren't together. It hurts to know that we've wasted years because we were both afraid." I know I've shocked him and he is feeling so guilty at the moment that his eyes don't even make contact with mine. Instead, they drop down to the floor where he finds that crack on the linoleum to be of interest.

Feeling free for the first time in forever, I release my tirade on him. I am not sure what it will accomplish, but it has to be said. I am tired of playing this game with him. "I don't have much self-esteem, Harm. I hate admitting it, but it is true. As much as I pretend it doesn't, the things you tell me hurt because to me, you are better than that.. It hurts even more knowing that YOU are my best friend. . . And that I brought out the worst in you. . .And it really HURTS to have the person that you are IN LOVE with treat you like a curse."

"I don't think of you as a curse, Mac." He says gently, still not looking up at me. I am glad that he isn't. Those eyes of his are kind of hard to resist and I want to let him know everything before I lose my nerve.

A sob that I've been trying to hide escapes me. It makes him try to reach out for me, but, instead I step away from him and look out the window. "I pushed you away because I was afraid that you are the next fatality in my life. . . Or, like you feared once, I'd lose you all together, friendship and all."

"Sarah. . . I."

I spin around and cut him off with my gaze. He realizes it and knows it is better to shut up. "Don't call me that. . . you don't have the right." I walk past him as I am about to head out of my office and to my home. It's still early in the work day, but I don't give a damn. Instead, I stop and turn to him. "It's funny. . . I was praying day in and day out that you would come back to me because I needed the real you. . . And now . . . I wish you'd never remembered a damned thing."

As I head on out into the bullpen, I feel his hand wrap around my arm, making me stop dead in my tracks. "You can't mean that."

"I do. . ." I gaze down at where his hand is still holding my arm and then glare up at him. "Now, let me go. . . and stay the hell away from me."

He does as I say but not before giving me this look that rocked me to the core. But, remaining strong, I stood my ground and left him there in the middle of the bullpen. Before I even reach the elevators I hear the Admiral. "RABB! Get in my office NOW!" I assume he heard the fight, hell everyone did. I wouldn't be surprised if people on the Hill heard us. I'll probably have some explaining to do tomorrow, but for now all I want is a drink. And I do mean a drink, alcohol and all.


	15. Chapter 15

PART 15

I probably should have gone elsewhere, I mean, McMurphy's sure hasn't been the same since, well, since everything with Dalton. Sure, we've come here several times for drinks, but it feels weird to come in solo. Especially since it was a man that brought me to drink last time around. Well, glad to know some things never change. It was a man that got me into drinking in the first place and my ex-husband that kept that comfort nearby whenever I needed it. Luckily, the bartender that knows us isn't working this early in the day. Not that he would question why I want alcohol in my drink, they never do. I guess that is the comfort that many people find in bartenders, they are like priests who don't make you feel like you are carrying the weight of the world that you need to be absolved for. They hear you out, give you the stuff you need and make sure you are on your way if you've had too much. Cheers for them.

"Vodka straight." I hear myself say even though there is some red light going off somewhere in my head. I pay for the drink and head off to a table in a corner. I place the drink directly on the center of the table. Funny how something so clear could screw you up so much. It used to be my drink of preference, though, when I was a teen, any alcohol was a preference. But vodka, oh, there was something about it. My body used to crave it like a cocaine addict craved that powdery white drug.

My internal clock tells me that I've been watching that glass for about fifteen minutes. It's then that, out of the corner of my eye, I see someone watching me. It's Harm. How is it that the man can find me anywhere I go? "Well, hello Kreskin." I say to him and grab the glass, trying to down some of it. But, it's no use. His hand comes around my own and takes the glass away, placing it on another table. He replaces the drink with another and by the lemon floating in it, I can tell it's my usual.

"You might like that better." He says smoothly before sitting across from me.

Glaring at him, I clench my jaw and ignore the need to slap him. "Give me my drink back."

Instead of doing as told, Harm nods at the non-alcoholic drink in front of me and smiles. "That IS your drink."

"Damnit, Harm!" I go to stand and grab my original order, instead, Harm blocks my way and manages to get me to sit down. "Damn you."

"You were right about us picking a fight with one another. . . we operate that way." He shrugs and sits back down. "I don't mean to. . . I care too much to hurt you. . . but I do anyway. . . but then, you hurt me too."

Words really do wound more than the sharpest blade. Hating to admit it, but Harm is right about us hurting each other. "And we always will until we sit down and talk about everything bothering us."

Harm nods and looks at the table. Nearly five minutes pass before either of us say anything, and it's Harm that talks first. "Did you mean what you said?"

"I said many things."

He nods again and takes a deep breath. "About you loving me?"

Oh, he had to bring that up didn't he? I can already feel the flush creep into my cheeks. Good tactic counselor. No reason to deny it now. "I meant everything about that."

"Then I guess we do need to talk about a lot of things." He says and proceeds to settle in. I really hope he doesn't mean right now. I do want the conversation, but I am exhausted and have the headache from hell.

I shake my head but don't look at him. "Not now Harm. . . I can't. . . I just can't." Before he could object, I stand and leave McMurphy's. He doesn't follow and I am content in that.

Running has always been the perfect way to clear my head. I go off and the only thing I hear is the rhythmic sound of my feet hitting the ground. As I take my usual trail, I am already planning the weekend. Most of it will revolve around this book which Harriet told me was excellent. Apparently it's one of those 'you can never put down' books. At the moment I have 4 like that and it's impossible to chose. So, I'll spend the weekend eating and relaxing. I need the relaxation.

"Damn." My usual tail is closed off. Apparently they are deciding to re-pave the area and are offering a detour. Lovely. I've been running on the detour for no more than three minutes when I hear someone behind me. That is normal, even at this early an hour. I am seldom the only person who runs in the mornings. But, this person was just freaking me out. They are running at the same pace as I am. Ever so often they get close to me and then back off again. I slow down, to hopefully get the person to pass, instead, they slow down as well.

I try running a bit harder and that is when I feel a hand on my back. Using my training, I put my hip into the person and fling them over my back, surprised at who just attacked me.

"You asshole!" After turning over and laying flat on his back, Harm looks up at me. He knows better than to sneak up on me. And what the hell was he trying to do?

Struggling to get up to his feet, I watch Harm makes it to the bench nearby and collapses onto it. "Well good morning to you too, Mac."

I want to be mad at him, I really do. But he now has a gash on his forehead and I go into concerned mode. "Harm, you're bleeding." Frowning I sit next to him and check the cut on his forehead. "I'm so sorry . . . but you shouldn't have snuck up on me."

He flashes that flyboy grin and realizes that his injury has just granted him amnesty. Jeeez, I am so weak. "Hey, you always said I was hardheaded."

"C'mon." I say, helping him stand. "Let's get over to my place and patch you up."

He laughs at my corpsman-esque tone and allows me to walk me over to his car which I drove back to my apartment.

After setting us both off with some coffee. I take out the first aid kit and start tending to the cut. I apply the antiseptic and put the mini band-aids on his head. Each time I try to attempt something, Harm pretends to bite me. "Stop!" I yell, laughing at his antics. "The band-aid is going to be all crooked with you fooling around." When I say that, he sits up straight and just watches as I finish patching him up. "There, all better."

"Thank you." He says, before taking my hand and kissing the knuckles. We stare at each other for a little while, before he breaks the silence. "So what are you up to this weekend?"

Shrugging, I reach across the table and take my mug of coffee. "Nothing. . . I was going to try to sleep."

I am having trouble sleeping again, well when don't I have trouble sleeping. Rather than respond immediately, he just studies me as if memorizing all the features of my face. I curse myself at shivering when he reaches out to touch my face. "Want to spend the weekend with me?" I gulp down the bile that had started to rise at my throat. Where was he going with this?

I can't stop myself from smiling. "Is that a date, flyboy?"

Harm shrugs and that flyboy smile of his goes up in wattage. God, I missed that smile. "If you want to call it that, I won't object."

"So where are you going to take me on this date?" I am amused with this and I can honestly say we both need amusement.

"Well I need to get a change of clothes and where we go is up to you." Finishing my coffee, I watch as he creases his forehead. Before I have a chance to respond, I am cut short by the sound of my phone.

I get up and grab the cordless from the kitchen. "Lt. Colonel MacKenzie?" It's the Admiral, he needs us both in the office ASAP. Apparently there are some developments to our case that can't wait until Monday. Damn all. "Yes, sir. . . he's here now sir. . . okay. . . Will do, and thank you."

When I turn to him, Harm is raising his eyebrows. "The Admiral?"

I nod. "He wants us in the office within the hour. . .some sensitive information came in. . ."

Harm stands with a sigh and grabs his car keys from my table. "Well. . . better get home and get in uniform." He heads towards the door and I walk over there with him. "I meant it, Sarah."

"Rain check?" I say looking up into those brilliant eyes of his that just so managed to get even brighter.

"I'd like that. . . I'd like that a lot." He says and then bends down brushing his lips ever so slightly over mine. "I'll see you in a bit, Mac."

"Bye." I say, after closing the door behind him. I lean against the door and reach up to touch my lips. It really wasn't much of a kiss, but, my God. My senses were reeling.


	16. Chapter 16

PART 16

The term 'No rest for the weak and weary' comes to mind as I walk into JAG ops on Monday. I am literally exhausted. To my dismay, the charges against my client have been changed and I had to work out a whole new strategy for the courtroom. I knew that he was guilty as sin, but, when you are a defense attorney, you do everything possible to get your client off. Finally, twenty minutes before the hearing, Harm and I manage to come to an agreement. I'm preparing for staff call when he walks up behind me.

"Mac, can I talk to you?"

"Yup." I say, walking into the office with Harm hot on my heels. He closes the door behind him knowing that is a sign that something he is telling me will be important. "What's up?" I ask, sliding into my chair.

"Well." He began, before sitting across from my desk. "When we went to Toronto, who assigned me on that mission?"

Okay, that is an odd question considering that was a few months ago. "I assume the SECNAV, maybe Kershaw or someone at Langley, why?"

Instead of answering, Harm just sits there looking off. He seems to be contemplating something. "I thought maybe you had pulled a few strings since you are very well liked within the CIA community." He says curtly. And now, I am totally lost. What the hell is he getting at? Before I get a chance to say anything, Harm is chuckling. "Betcha Webb was pretty pissed off."

Huh? "Webb?. . . Why?"

Harm just grins. "He was supposed to go with you. . . someone changed the whole thing and I ended up taking his place."

"What?" Okay, that came out a bit louder than I would have liked. Someone changed Webb for Harm. Lately, it seems that I am into conspiracy theories. I guess that is what happens when you watch too much of Court TV or those mystery shows on Discovery Channel.

"He was supposed to go, not me." Harm clarifies again and is standing while I frantically grab both my briefcase and my cover. "Where are you going?"

"Out." I cut him off before he pokes and prods into things that I want to find out for myself. I try to push past him, but he stops me.

Harm looks down at me with concerned eyes. "But we have Staff call. . ."

"Tell the Admiral that it couldn't be avoided. I'll explain tomorrow. . . If you want stop by my place later. . .Trust me." I manage to push past him and head out into the bullpen. I can still feel Harm on my heels.

"Where are you going?" He asks again before I reach the glass doors.

I don't turn around as I shout back at him. "Langley."

"You sick, sadistic, son of a bitch!" I yell at Webb before slugging him. He falls back against his desk and is holding his nose which I am sure is broken. I can vaguely hear what he is saying, but I figure that it is something to the effect of: "What the hell was that for?"

Casually, I slide into his guest chair and smile as if nothing happened. Ah, the wrath of a woman. Fun part, we can always chock it up to PMS. "That was for Harm."

"Harm?" It's almost comical to hear his voice all nasally. "Trust me, whatever happened, Harm probably did it to himself." Oh, that's nice considering that Harm didn't ask to be tortured by the psychos that nabbed him in Toronto. Breathe, MacKenzie, breathe. I suddenly have this overwhelming feeling to beat Webb into a pulp.

"You sent him into that mission in Toronto, didn't you?" My voice scares me, so I can imagine what it is doing to Webb.

"I don't know what you are talking about." He says after getting to his chair and tilting his head back. "He went because. . ."

"I don't want a pathetic excuse, Webb." I cut him off. If he thinks he is getting out of this without me knowing the truth, he has another thing coming. "Why did you put him in there? Did you set him up? Set me up?"

He sighs and I can tell he finally gets it. "It wasn't supposed to go that badly and I know they wouldn't have done anything to you." Yep, may have to kick his ass again.

"Explain, in English not Webb talk, please."

"We knew something would happen, but it was supposed to be easy. . . and those men rarely do anything to women, I knew you would be safe."

"Answer me this, were you supposed to go?"

He nods. "Yes. . . but I put Harm instead of me, I knew he could protect you better than I could. . . and." He cuts off then stands and heads over to his window. I have a feeling I know what he is going to say so I don't bother trying to get it out of him. ". . . after Paraguay, it's difficult to go on these things. We are trained to deal with torture, but I didn't want to be in those shoes again."

And I was right, he sacrificed Harm. "So Harm was your scapegoat. . . that is sick."

"What is sick is the feeling of not being able to use some body parts because I was keeping Sadik away from you." He shouts accusingly at me.

"How the hell was that MY fault? I didn't ask to be put in your stupid mission, Webb."

He chuckled and turned to me, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The blood had finally stopped. "You agreed."

"Because it's my duty to serve my country. And had I known then what I know now, I still would have done it." It was the truth, cept that I would have changed a helluva lot of things.

He just shook his head and slid back into the chair. "We would have been fine had you not decided to take on the crusade of rescuing Gunny."

Oh, excuse me for trying to protect a friend that was put into that mess. "He is a fellow Marine and a friend."

"We didn't have to go after him. It was a suicide mission and you went anyway." Webb yells. So, if I get this straight, all the time he thought it was MY fault for being tortured? "And YES. I sent Harm in because I didn't want to be on the torture table again.. . I knew he would do anything to protect you. . . you would be safe."

That is about as much as I want to know, so I stand and head towards the door. "I never want you to use me or Harm again. . . if you so much as attempt it. . ." I stop for a moment for that dramatic pause. ". . . Tortue will seem like a Sunday stroll." Before he has a chance to argue with me, I am out door and half way down the hall, thanking God that Harm is still in my life.


	17. Chapter

Last part... some smut at the end.

Thanks for reading, liking, reviewing my trip down memory lane.

I'm gonna be uploading a few of my oldies that never have been on FFnet.

PART 17

I didn't hear him knocking on the door because I was enjoying a very much needed bubble bath. However, I do hear him calling for me from my bedroom. No doubt he used his emergency key to come in. "In here, Harm." I hear when he gets to the door of the bathroom, his muffled voice greets me from the other side of the door.

"Hey, you taking long in there?" He asks.

I nod to no one in particular. "I just got in. . . You can come in you know, I have the curtain drawn you can sit on the head."

He hesitates before opening the door, I am sure that mind of his is thinking all sorts of crazy things. Then, I hear the door open and close and him letting his breath out slowly. "You did a good job patching me up this weekend, thanks."

"It was the least I could do." I say and pour more of the bubble solution into the warm water. We're both quiet for a moment and the only way I know he is still in the bathroom is because I can hear some rustling on his side. I assume he is nervously moving his leg or something.

He sighs. "So you gonna tell me where you went this morning?"

"Maybe. . ." I say coyly. Part of me still wants to rip Webb limb from limb.

Some time passes before Harm says anything else. "Not sure how you girls can just sit in a tub. It's so non-productive." Non productive? I thought he would say gross or something, but non-productive makes me chuckle.

"I would ask you to join me, but I know you wouldn't, would you?" I chuckle again, imagining Harm squirming on the other side of the curtain. I am willing to bet that he is probably trying to find a tactful way to leave that does not have him sounding like a prude. "See. . ." I say, trying not too laugh at him too much.

However, I am completely taken by surprise when the curtain is pulled back and Harm is standing before me in only his boxers. So surprised I am, that I bring my hands up to cover myself. Not that he could see much, there are bubbles all over the place. He chuckles at my modesty and then commands me. "Sit up."

"W-w-why?" I stammer, acting like a woman that has never been touched by the opposite sex before. I move forward and feel him settle in behind me, his long legs on either side of me. It should have been hilarious that he was still in his boxers, but the close proximity of his body to mine was making me dizzy. Since I didn't lean against his chest, Harm took it upon himself to reach over, grab the body wash and massage it onto my back. God, he is good at this. A bit too good. A sigh escapes me and before long I am floating off in my warm, scented water dreamland.

"What is that anyway?" He asks, his voice low and intimate. I see him pointing at the gel before brining his hands to my back.

"Lavender." My breathy voice scares me. I really hate the fact that Harm and only Harm could ever bring me into submission by just one stupid back massage. Mic sure as hell couldn't. Actually, sometimes Mic's massages were equivalent to the Vulcan death grip. But Harm has always been gentle. Especially when he arrives to anything that feels like a knot.

There, he rubs and rubs until he works it out, applying just enough pressure for it not to hurt. If the man ever left the Navy again, I am going to have to recommend him become a masseuse. I can imagine the amount of women that would. . . Woah, never mind, I don't want his hands on anyone but ME. Possessive, aren't I?

Not like it matters, this is probably a dream and I am going to wake up on my bed or on my couch, completely disappointed, wet and pissed off. Don't know though, this feels too incredible to be a dream. Nah, in a dream he'd be completely naked. Speaking of naked, apparently this is turning him on as I can feel his hardness against me. Hmmm. . . now this could get interesting.

I feel water being poured over my back and I imagine that Harm has been cupping his hands to do so. Once he is done, he grabs my shoulders and pulls me back against him. I sigh, contently when he brings his arms around and holds me tight against him. I let the warmth of his body and the warmth of the water take me away. We remain in a companionable silence. My fingers run over his arms which are wrapped around me. "So where did you go today?" Harm said softly, his voice a whisper. "You said you went to Langley, I assume that means you went to see Webb." There is a catch in his voice, that I know most people would have missed. A slight hint of disappointment and defeat.

"Yes, I went to see him." Securing my arms over his, I snuggled myself against him and tipped my head back, looking up at Harm. "And ended up getting this." I lift my right hand and show him my fist which has a slight bruise on it. Frowning, he unwraps his arms, takes my hand and examines it. At his questioning glance, I fill him in on Webb's little scheme and how Harm was the pawn. "It all clicked on the way over, so I walked into this office and broke his nose."

Harm chuckled. "Never get in the way of a pissed off Marine." His hands run down my arm, and to the back of my hands where his fingers thread through my own. "I'm sorry Sarah, for everything that has happened. . . for hurting you."

"And I didn't meant it when I said I wanted you to forget. . . it's just that." Sighing, I stop for a moment. It's funny the amount of things that you take for granted until the moment they are taken away. I guess, in a way, I was taking Harm for granted. Still, I had that part of me that felt I should have given into the other Harm and fulfilled my greatest of fantasies with him. I longed to be fully possessed, cherished, loved by the man that I loved with ever fiber of my being. "You were saying. . . doing things that."

His voice brings me away from the thoughts that I can't quite formulate into clear sentences. "I know, Mac. . . I was there, I remember." Okay, now I feel like a total moron.

"Y-you remember?" Stammering a bit much lately, aren't I? "How?"

Harm shrugs. "Doctors tell me that some people remember what happened after they lost their memory." Smiling, he turned over slightly so that he could look into my eyes. "I remember parts, like sitting on your bed, almost kissing. . . how you pushed me away. . ."

"I'm sorry that I did that. . . But I just couldn't. . . you weren't you."

Smiling, he brings a hand up to my face and starts to trace my facial features. "I know. . . I know, Sarah." Stopping a moment, he re-thinks what he said and it's actually quite charming when he says. "I can call you Sarah, can't I? Or do I have to continue calling you, Mac?"

"You can call me Sarah. . . I like the way it sounds when you say it." The moment the words leave my lips, I feel myself blush and shy away.

Sighing, he placed his fingers under my chin and moves my head so that I am looking at him again. "Don't look away, Sarah. . . I need you to look at me."

I do as he says and look into his eyes. There is something mysterious in them. And, if I read his eyes correctly, it is mixed with a little bit of fear. I feel myself melt into his eyes and that sexy smile of his as I comply to what he wanted. I am looking at him and he is looking back. I feel so much for this man that if he never talks to me again, I will carry this moment for as long as I shall live. It's then that he moves forward and his lips find mine. It's a gentle kiss, almost as if he were asking me for permission. I kiss him back, assuring him that it is okay and I want this. Correction, it's far more than a want. Simply put, it's a need. I need Harm like the air that I breathe. I've needed him for so long that part of me is lost and only he could bring me home.

"I love you, Sarah. . ." He says when we break away from the kiss and for a moment all I can do is stare. My mouth must have been wide open as he tucked a finger under my chin and closed my jaw. He smiles as he does so. "I meant it. . .And it's me, Mac. . . not someone in my body, it's me. . . and I've loved you for so long that I can't remember when I started loving you. . . I need you. . . and I refuse to spend another year as an enemy to you. . . I refuse to spend even another day without you."

I don't answer him, I don't want to when words seem to fail us more than help us. So, instead, I acknowledge him by leaning forward and kissing him hard. Any moment now I am sure that I'll wake up alone in my bed. This has to be a dream because Harm would never, could never say all those things, could he? The moment I start to doubt, I hear him whisper in my ear. "I love you." And the reassurance is all I need to give myself to him.

"Then let's do something about it." I challenge him and that flyboy grin plays out for a few seconds before he changes to that seductive look that can make me give into anything he asks of me. Minutes later, after we both dried off, Harm picked me up, carried me into the bedroom and laid me right smack in the middle of the bed.

Before doing much else, he just stands back and studies me. The way his eyes are drinking me in would normally make me want to cover up. But, instead, I lay there, lips parted, head slightly thrown back, giving him access to all of my points and curves. I'm almost daring him to continue to gaze at me and he does until his heart's content. I can't explain how wonderful it feels to have him look at me that way, to feel so attractive and feminine.

He smiles and I see that he enjoys that I do not shy away but dare him to do something. Propping up on my elbows, I take a good look at Harm, studying every bit of his perfectly proportional and rock hard and I do mean rock hard, body. Never has the term "Greek god" come to mind when describing a man, this time, it has and it is every bit as fitting. However, I think I'll keep that thought to myself, don't wanna inflate his ego any more than it is.

I lick my lips and curl my finger, beaconing him to join me on the bed. He does ask I request with the grace and skill of a jungle cat on the prowl. We haven't even touched yet and I am already wet and ready for him. If he could do that without even touching me, I imagine that tonight will be the death of me and what a way to go. The seducer becomes the seduced as I push him onto the mattress and settle next to him. My hands move against his back muscles, tracing each hard plane, tenderly removing each not. I move forward and start running my hands through his hair, massaging his scalp as I let my breasts graze across his back. I feel him shiver and shake and I can only imagine that this must be torture for him. No matter, he owes me for the years of pent up sexual frustration and tonight, it's time to collect for the both of us.

So, I rake my nails across his back, before moving my hands up and massaging his shoulders. His muscles are hard under my hands and it feels so good to finally touch the flesh that I've been privy to on very few occasions. I move my hands down to his sides and see him squirm. Oh, so he is ticklish? That might be useful for some other occasion. I stop at his lower back and, after taking deep breath, move to that nice six of his, which I rake my nails over before taking a firm hold and massaging. I hear his breath catch and then release and to be honest, I am having trouble maintaining my own composure. "Turn over." I say softly, trying not to sound too commanding.

When he does, I see his face flush and his manhood beaconing me to touch and enjoy. I start at his ankles and move my way up, ignoring his hard on and moving to his chest where I massage his pecks. I straddle him, making sure he feels just how wet he has made me. Moving forward, I kiss his lips and savor the taste of him. Lick my way down to his jaw line and nibble his chin before heading down to his nipples. I lick one while I stroke the other and then change sides. I hear him moan and by the delicate thrusts of his hips, I realize he can't take too much more. Truthfully, I can't either.

I move myself down his body and settle my core just above his erection. Delicately, I slide him into me and I see the surprised look as I take in all of him. Harm stays so still as my muscles become accustomed to the welcomed intrusion. Before I even begin to move, his hands slide up my thighs to my hips and higher up. His hands cup my breasts, his fingers stroke my nipples making each sensitive tip rock hard. He rolls them between his fingers and then kneads my breasts. One of his hands falls between my thighs as the other moves up to my neck, caressing my skin.

Harm's eyes have always been the most expressive of orbs, this time, it's no different. "Sarah. . . oh Sarah." He moans, sucking in a deep breath as I start moving my hips against him.

His eyes never leave mine as I move faster against him, causing a tantalizing friction that is threatening to blind me. His fingers on my clit rub harder, urging me to come. I don't disappoint him and give into his words of encouragement as I am taken over the edge. "Oh, Harm. . . Harm. . . yes!" I scream in pleasure as my staccato cries echo in my bedroom. A second later, his hands are on my hips, guiding me up and down his shaft as he seeks out his own release. As he orgasms, his eyes close and Harm bites his lower lip. His low, throaty moan is intense as it escapes him.

Literally five minutes pass before I am laying on my back. Harm moves between my thighs and parts them. Slowly he slides himself into me and covers my body fully with his own. He kisses me deeply, slowly, lovingly. If our first coupling was about release, this was about love. Harm takes his time, slowly moving in and out of me. "I love you, Sarah. . ." He whispers between my breast as he kisses the side of each of them and trails his kisses back to my lips. "I love you so much. . ."

"I love you too, Harm. . ." I whisper back before returning his kiss. My legs wrap around his waist, ankles cross at the small of his back. My nails skim across the muscles of his back. I feel my walls crashing with every stroke, every movement. I am his, body and soul. And from the loving look in his eyes, I can see that he feels the same.

Hours later, we are laying in bed still naked, covered in sheets and giggling at some silly things that only lovers talk about. Lovers. . . How I longed to call us that and now I can. "I missed those." He said in a low tone, his eyes gleaming. God, he looked so wonderfully happy.

I raise an eyebrow. Okay? "Missed what?"

"Your smile." He says, tracing his fingers over my lips which only makes me smile more. "Your laughter. . . it's like music."

I laugh at the irony of a man that once was so scared to let go and now . . . well all I can say is wow. "So this is what it's like to be in love?" I ask and watch as that flyboy smile graces those lips of his.

"This is what it's like to be in love. . ." He confirms before kissing me. His body covers mine as our kisses deepen. Not sure how I am going to go into work on Monday after this weekend. I am sure that our faces will be the indicator that Harm and I aren't so far away anymore.

THE END.


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